Doctor Strange and the Realm of Dreams
by kakashidiot
Summary: When dreams begin to spiral out of control, when a mage hears the call of a rising shadow, when chaos spreads around the world, there is only one thing a sorcerer can do. Go dream hunting. Genfic. Mild Stephen/Christine. OC charas. DIT-verse tie-in standalone.
1. Prologue

See below for tags and warnings, etc.

* * *

 **Doctor Strange and the Realm of Dreams**

 **Prologue**

 **A few decades earlier...**

"Daddy… Can you – can you tell me a bedtime story?"  
"Sure, honey," he smiles and sits down at her side, making sure her blanket is tucked firmly about her. "What kind of story do you want tonight?"  
"A fun one! An exciting one!"  
"About a princess?"  
"No!" The girl scrunches up her face. "Something cooler."  
"Hmmm…" His hand rubs his moustache and chin as he thinks over his daughter's request. "Well, maybe I do have a story."  
"Tell me! Tell me!"  
"It's a story about a girl."  
"Daddy," the girl interjects solemnly. "You said this wasn't a princess story."  
"This isn't," he reassures her. "I begin my princess stories with 'Once upon a time, in a land far, far away...'"  
"Oh, right." The girl settles back onto her pillow.  
"Now, where was I... A story about a girl who came from a land far away. Her name was…"

-0-0-0-

 **A few months earlier...**

"So… things are gonna change, aren't they?"  
"I guess so. But… but not in the important ways that matter. The important things."  
"Like?"  
"How I love you and you love me?"  
"So you can read minds now?" she teases.  
"Maybe… not." He smiles and for the first time in his life feels like an awkward teenager all over again.

 _This is ridiculous._

"Maybe not everything is gonna stay the same," he finally says, remembering a friend now lost to him.  
"Hm. Good thing I'm OK with letting you in on a secret."  
"Secret?" he asks.  
"The not-so secret." She smiles. "I love you too." Then her expression becomes a little more serious. "But, we are gonna have to make a deal."  
"A deal?" He smiles widely. "That sounds OK to me. Anything will be fine."  
"Hm." She says. "We'll see. We'll… we'll see. We'll have to take this one step at a time. Getting back together won't be so easy – doubly so because of…" She waves a hand. "…your abilities and your new life."  
"Nothing is really going to change," he reiterates.  
"Everything is going to change." She gives him a look. "It has to."

 **-0-0-0-**

 **A few moments earlier...**

Such long years.  
Such darkness.  
Such silence.

 _And now…_

 _And now…_

Light. Odd white lights.  
Strange noises. Unrecognizable chatter.  
Unfamiliar surroundings. Oddly shaped items.

 _Was this a new world?_  
 _Was this a new time?_

Stretch out and taste the air and dip into the fires of the world's energy.

 _Ahhh…_  
 _So much different… yet, so much the same.  
Time to begin once again.  
_

* * *

This is my first Doctor Strange story. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please review! I appreciate concrit and, of course, encouragement.

 **Tags: genfic, Stephen/Christine (mild), OC**  
 **Genre: genfic, action/adventure, science fantasy, mystery**  
 **Warnings: some language, no sex, scientific concepts, Tesla, novella**

 **ANOTHER BIG WARNING: This has some mild references to my DiT book(s). If you haven't read DiT or any of the side stories, don't worry... the references are slight, but if you see something that isn't canon to the Marvel world, please know that DiT is an AU and as such has altered a few things in the storyline. For those who are waiting for the DiT sequel. I am waiting for Thor 3 to come out before I get serious with my writing. Until then, I hope you enjoy this novella.**


	2. Chapter 1

See below for tags and warnings, etc. Also see below for replies to any reviews!

* * *

 **Doctor Strange and the Realm of Dreams**

 **Chapter 1**

She wakes to the sound of crashing waves. Cold pierces her as she slowly raises herself to sitting position. Looking about her, she pays no attention to the salty spray which now moistens her skin and dampens her clothing. Her lips are cracked and dry and the salt stings against them. Yet, her eyes are focused far into the distance.

 ** _…_** ** _look…  
…with eyes which wish to see...  
…those who fear not the truth…_**

She rises and looks forward to the vast ocean before her. An ominous oceanscape forms before her. The waves before her eyes rapidly darken from brilliant blues and greens to ominous blue-blacks and deep greys. Overhead, the clear blue sky begins to fill with the faint wisps of cloud. The horizon also blurs with fog and rain and heavy lowering clouds which ominously build upward.

 ** _…_** ** _look…  
…what comes…_**

In only a few seconds the storm builds upwards, blotting out the sun.

Reality passes through time, burning swiftly like birch tinder beneath a fire. Rapid. Time lapse.

The storm is coming, and he wonders what it signifies.

 _He._

"What does it signify?"

"Could be anything," she responds lightly.

She does not turn. Her eyes are fixed on the storm.

 ** _…_** ** _look…_**

It is coming.

-0-0-0-

He jerked awake then and for a moment lay there stunned, uncertain of what he had seen. _Seen? More like dreamed_ , he snorted to himself. Yet, it seemed more than a mere wisp of a dream. The salt and the cold water, the moist air and the brisk wind, the gently blurring sun and the encroaching fog. It all lingered within the corners of his mind, unpleasantly vivid. _Unpleasantly real._

"Real?" he asked himself aloud.

Half a year ago, he would have dismissed it easily. Half a year ago, he would have mentioned Freud with a scornful laugh. Half a year ago, he would have forgotten the dream instantly as he focused on "more important" matters. Half a year ago, he was a different man.

Now, the man known as Stephen Strange was no longer his own. He was no longer a renowned brain surgeon. He was no longer the master of his fate. Fate was the master of his fate, and dreams, perhaps, were more than dreams.

 _Something for me to ask Wong_ , Stephen reminded himself with a quirk of his eyebrows as he contemplated one of the last remaining masters in the art. _Wong was a laugh. Not._ Stephen eased back onto his pillow with a short sigh. _In the morning, I can pop over to Kathmandu and check on the apprentices. Ask him then. Astral projection, the mirror dimension, life beyond the confines of what we know… Maybe it is only a dream… but maybe it is something else._

Stephen grinned at the realization that library time was upcoming.

 _Research._

Stephen's grin fell away at another thought.

 _Christine._

-0-0-0-

"I had a dream last night," Stephen cradled his smartphone neatly between his ear and shoulder as he contemplated a pair of sling rings before him.

He turned slightly in the unfortunately not-so-well-padded swivel chair the better to inspect the designs within the dim ray of New York sunlight filtering through the Sanctum's old-fashioned pane windows. It was late spring, but the night still fell earlier than Stephen would have liked.

 _Time is such a precious commodity_ , he mused, remembering the Ancient One's final words. _Her final moments._

Christine's voice broke into his thoughts.

"A dream?" Christine asked. "A nightmare? Or does Stephen Strange no longer get the spooks at night?"  
"Well, I wasn't spooked exactly," Stephen hummed appreciatively as his faintly trembling fingers held the second ring closer for inspection. "It was just… weird. You know?"  
"LSD weird?"  
"No… it was… there was a girl. Maybe I was the girl…"  
"I'm sure Freud has a lot to say about that-"  
"No," Stephen rolled his eyes, "Look it was normal – sort of – but not normal. There were little things that were off. Time was fast-forwarding. Time lapse. A storm was building…"  
"Maybe you are finally coming to terms with… you know… everything," Christine pointed out sensibly.  
"Hmmm… No. I'm fairly self-aware enough to-"  
"I'm sorry. The line must be really bad because I think I just heard you say that you are fairly self-aware-"  
"Fairly, yes."  
"Fairly self-aware?" Christine chuckled. "Says the man who was in love himself since he got out of diapers."  
"Um." Stephen said teasingly. "Look. I knew I was a dick sometimes-"  
"Sometimes? You mean, most of the time. And knowing makes what you did worse-"  
"I note the past tense."  
"Yeah." He could almost hear her smiling over the phone. "You're doing better these days, but that's not saying much."  
"I apologized."  
"That does go a long way… but actions speak louder than words."  
"True."  
"And you have had a dream… and you're telling me you've had a dream. That means you think you are going to be away for a little while?" Christine surmised.  
"Clever, clever." Stephen admitted. "Yes."  
"Thanks for keeping me in the loop."  
"I won't be away for long," promised Stephen. "I just need to do my research. Double-check to make sure my dream doesn't mean anything."  
"You will be back in time for the charity event at the Metro?"  
"Oh, yeah, yeah. Just a quick jaunt to Kathmandu and back."  
"I don't need to know."  
"Love you," he said.  
"Love you, too," she replied lightly.

He pressed her no further and hung up looking more thoughtful than usual.

-0-0-0-

"Dreams," Wong gave Stephen a hard look.

Within his wide brown face, Wong's glittering black eyes brooked no quarter, and Stephen found himself shifting from foot to foot as if he were a beginner's apprentice once again. Annoyance rose, and, hands on his hips, the newest mage master turned away.

"Look. I just need some books on dreams. You got any?"  
"There are a few books on dreams – the interpretation of dreams, the significance of dreams, important dreams of Ancient Ones long past, and the treatises on dreams by a variety of Sorcerers Supreme. What are you looking for specifically, Master Strange?"  
"Doctor. It's Doctor," Stephen massaged the bridge of his nose.  
"Doctor. Strange."  
"I had a dream about a storm. There was a girl. She seemed to be focused on it. She said it could be anything. Is the girl me? Is the storm me? Or is the storm something bad that will happen? If it signifies something bad, then what is it? Is the girl a figment of my mind – or is she an actual person? Is she a mage? Another Sorcerer Supreme?"  
"There is only one Sorcerer Supreme within each Realm at any single time," Wong shook his head curtly. "If she is real, if she is a Sorcerer Supreme, she must be from another Realm. But…"  
"But?"

Wong turned and made his way past the elemental magicks and disappeared around the corner of the bookshelves for a moment. Rattling broke the silence as three books were removed from their prescribed places within the ancient metal honeycomb shelves.

"But this girl… what did she look like?"  
"Blonde haired… blue eyed… medium height… late twenties, early thirties… myopic…"  
"Hm. It does not sound like any Sorcerer Supreme the Ancient Once spoke of, nor does it sound like anyone I have read about in the Annals." Wong reappeared, three books in hand, and set the books down with an authoritative thud. "Asgard has the High Mage Agaeti – an elderly mage with many years of experience."  
"Many?"  
"Over four thousand. Or so it is said."  
"Holy shit," Stephen turned then, dark eyebrows rising. "The Sorcerer Supreme of Asgard made a deal with Dormamu too?"  
"No," Wong's smile was stiff. "Asgardians, according to the literature remaining from the Ancient Ones of millennia long past, are blessed with long life. Around five thousand years or so."  
"That's… nice for them," Stephen drew a chair up and sat back in it as Wong disappeared again in search of a few more books.  
"And there are others… Kalidor of Svartalfheim oversees his Realm with a dark gaze. He is around seven thousand years old. Alfheim's Lindellu of Garyth-thorn. I forgot how long he has been in charge… but it's been a long time."  
"They're elves, right?"  
"Dark and Light Elves, yes. Both quite long-lived as a species."  
"What about…" Stephen hunted around for the name. "Jotun…haim?"  
"Jotunheim…" Wong set two more books down. "That place is desolate and dying. If you believe the reports. They have not had a Sorcerer Supreme since the day Asgard defeated them."  
"Sucks to be them."  
"Hm."  
"So the girl in my dream…"  
"May be a powerful mage. There are many powerful mages who may one day be a Sorcerer Supreme for their Realms… or who may be the hero that is needed when the time comes." Wong gave Stephen another hard look.  
Stephen raised a hand. "Hey, don't look at me! I did my duty."  
"One day, sooner than you think, you will be Sorcerer Supreme."  
"Uhh…"  
"I can see it."  
"You had a dream?" Stephen asked curiously.  
Wong laughed then. "Not a dream, no. Call it a hunch – or premonition."

Stephen sighed.

"At any rate," Wong shoved the stack of books toward his friend, "there are others. Other powerful mages. You may have heard of them – particularly regarding the Avengers. A few years back, Thor of Asgard stayed on Earth and Loki, his brother, joined him. According to the Ancient One, she was not required to step into the battle due to the combined powers of the brothers."  
"Thor and Loki? As in the… Norse legends?"  
"The Norse legends are more than likely not based on this Thor and this Loki. They are, after all, young, it seems. However, at the dawn of mankind, other races have shared this Earth with us – both Asgardian and Jotunn. Thors and Lokis of those ancient times remain with us through myths… and today, perhaps, the cycle begins anew."  
"I remember the news… but the stations didn't say much about magick or anything like that."  
"Our world has only begun to accept mutants and other kinds of enhanced humans," Wong shook his head. "It is difficult to talk about something like magick to skeptical minds. As you would know."  
Stephen winced and said, "I take your point."  
"But, back to the topic at hand… A mage such as yourself – or Loki – could touch another's dream… but you did not meet Loki. You would have known."  
"Huh. So if the dream was a connection between myself and another mage, I could find the mage and get more details from them?"  
"Perhaps they know the meaning. Perhaps they do not. Perhaps you two were destined to meet in order to help each other." Wong paused and shook his head. "Now I sound like some two-bit gongfu master."  
"Gongfu? You mean… kungfu?"  
"Kungfu is gongfu." Wong rolled his eyes.  
"I thought you WERE a kung – gongfu master…"  
"Get to reading, Strange. If something is coming, I'd like to know about it before it's too late."

By the time Wong reached the library door, however, Stephen was already focused on the books before him. Drawing his tablet closer for note-taking, Stephen opened the first book. It was time to delve into the world of dreams.

* * *

This is my first Doctor Strange story. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please review! I appreciate concrit and, of course, encouragement.

Thanks to: Britabri for reviewing! I hope the story continues to be interesting...

 **Tags: genfic, Stephen/Christine (mild), OC**  
 **Genre: genfic, action/adventure, science fantasy, mystery**  
 **Warnings: some language, no sex, scientific concepts, Tesla, novella**

 **ANOTHER BIG WARNING: This has some mild references to my DiT book(s). If you haven't read DiT or any of the side stories, don't worry... the references are slight, but if you see something that isn't canon to the Marvel world, please know that DiT is an AU and as such has altered a few things in the storyline. For those who are waiting for the DiT sequel. I am waiting for Thor 3 to come out before I get serious with my writing. Until then, I hope you enjoy this novella.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 ** _…_** ** _listen…  
…can you hear it…_**

The world is dim – almost pitch dark – with sudden piercing shafts of light from rare breaks in the thick leafy canopy overhead. Yet it is not cold here. It is hot and moist, and the ground beneath her boots is soft with lichen, moss, fern, and fungi. There are no bright flowers in the underworld of the jungle, but above there are glimpses of splashes of colour, twined about vines and tree branches. Tall grasses obscure the vision ahead and brambles catch on her curly hair.

Overhead and about her, grasses rustle as lizards, snakes, insects, and birds move through the jungle. The harsh calls of the birds rise as they swoop upward and beyond the leaves above.

 ** _…_** ** _can you hear it…_**

She takes stock and realizes that she is panting as though she has been running.

 _Running from what?_

She does not know, but she struggles on, summoning a machete to hack her way through the bracken.

It is slow going. Although she is not certain why she is worried, the dread within her builds. She hacks away furiously. Her hands become raw and scratched. Focus tunnels into her work, and the only sound she hears is her panting.

 ** _…_** ** _it is coming…  
…the sound of white lightning and steel-silver rain…  
…a storm…_**

Then she ceases abruptly. Stops and listens. After a few seconds, she manages to get her breathing under control enough to realize that the birds have fallen silent – or disappeared. The growls and hisses, too, sound no more.

The jungle holds its breath.

It is waiting.

 ** _…_** ** _it is coming…_**

Without a word and with only a single thought, she sprouts wings and carefully rises, half-slinging from vines, half-pulling herself upward until she passes the first, then second, and then the final tier of the canopy, pressing past cobwebs and bees' nests.

She clings now to the topmost branch of a tall swaying tree. _A dipterocarp?_ She is not certain, not certain even where that name came from.

 _He knows._

 _He._

 _Am I you?_ He wonders.

She does not turn to her left, but she knows he stands at her side. He knows that she is aware of him – and yet her gaze is always fixed upon the distance.

Billowing black clouds swell in the azure tropical skies, turning the jungle-scape into a blur of dull colours muted with grey and listless blue. Somewhere far above thunder rumbles ominously, and in the distance a heavy grey line delineates the approaching front of rain. The trees shiver with anticipation and the fauna crouch in hiding.

"Dipterocarps are a tree found in South Asian jungles. Emergent types that are famous for housing bees."  
"The bees are immaterial," she replies.  
"Haven't you seen _The Happening_?" he asks. "Poorly executed, but the concept is valid."  
"The bees won't be the only things gone."

He glances at her sharp profile, but her glasses now glint in the falling light and her eyes are briefly obscured. Her lips, however, are downturned slightly.

"Something is waking up," she finally says. "That is my theory. Something is waking up which has been asleep for a long time. It is coming."

 ** _…_** ** _white lightning and steel-silver rain…  
…an army of unseen force…  
…an ancient storm risen once again…_**

"What is it? How do I stop it?"

Thunder and lightning crash overhead, drowning out his voice, and, with a shock, almost as though he is broadsided by a giant ocean wave, the rain hits.

-0-0-0-

Stephen Strange woke up, sitting up automatically as he panted wildly for a few seconds. His hands ran through his hair and over his chest experimentally as though to check that he was not drenched from head to foot.

He was not. He was in New York, more specifically in the New York Sanctum in his new bed. After releasing his breath a few times experimentally, he leaned back against the ancient wood headboard and rubbed his face slowly, trying to shake off the lucid dream he had just experienced.

It remained with him, uneasily clinging to his consciousness.

Opening his eyes, the doctor tried to keep his focus on his surroundings in an effort to calm his racing mind. He focused on the crisp white cotton sheets and the soft quilt beneath his fingers. He focused on the firm mattress and the goose down pillows imported from his old loft. He contemplated the wood carving around the edge of his dresser's mirror and the mandala hangings which draped down the opposite wall. He focused on the distant honk of a car horn and the wail of a siren.

"AAAAHHHHHH!"

A something soft and unexpected touched his cheek, causing him to fly back.

"Holy shit – stop! Stop doing that! I'm fine! I'm fine!" Stephen glared at the Cloak which loomed over the bed. "Just go and…"

At the sight of the sad droop to the Cloak, Stephen sagged against his headboard.

"Never mind, never mind."

The Cloak perked up, and Stephen sighed loudly.

 _Great_ , he thought. I'm at the mercy of a Cloak. Although, Stephen had to admit, _the Cloak of Levitation is really a lot more like a dog. Or a dolphin. Or something very dog-like but even more intelligent. And I can't believe I'm having this conversation with myself. That's it, Stephen. You are officially insane._

He was sure the Ancient One was somewhere out there laughing at him.

Stephen resisted another sigh. His moping days were over. He had promised Christine that as part of The Deal. The Deal involved a lot of promises on his as well as her part, one of which included Stephen coming to real terms with the loss of his hands and his career.

 _It isn't easy every day. It never is_ , the ex-surgeon thought as he slid back under his sheets. _Not when it comes to something like this anyways. We can't always be "Eye of the Tiger". Sometimes we need someone else to help us up. "All These Things That I've Done". The Killers. 2004._

He fell asleep with the repetitive chorus stuck in his head like a broken record.

 _"I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier."_

-0-0-0-

A week of research passed by. Only allowing himself to communicate with Wong and Christine, the new master of the New York Sanctum focused on his duties of mage as well as his research. When his notes were finished, Stephen sat back in his chair and contemplated the ceiling in deep thought. His mind whirled about from one topic to another, uncertain upon which piece of information to settle upon.

Stephen closed his eyes and focused instead on the stead drip-drip-drip of rain outside his window. It was a grey day in New York – rainy and cold. He turned to watch the rivulets of water slowly creep down the panes of the windows. In the distance, he could hear the sound of cars and buses splashing through the puddles. Their honking was muffled by the fall of the rain, however, which made him smile contentedly. The sounds of New York were familiar to him, but there was something to be said about a bit of peace and quiet.

 _Dreams. The mysteries of the consciousness. The bonds of the consciousness and the soul to the body. The relation of the soul (and therefore, the consciousness) to the Astral Plane and other dimensions. So many questions. So few answers._

A gentle beep-beep-beep broke the silence.

He didn't need to look. It was Christine's ring tone.

"Hey."  
"Hey yourself," Christine's voice sounded a little harassed and tired.  
"Long day at the office?"  
"Something like that. Code White in Emerg this morning. Woman went crazy. Grabbed a mop from the janitor's closet and proceeded to beat a doctor with it… Ah… I – I don't know what this world is coming to these days."  
"Psychotic break?"  
"Something like that. Might have been stress. Her husband was in for routine colonoscopy. She apparently had dozed off in the lobby and when she woke up, she had an overwhelming urge to make the world a safer place… but… safe from what? She wasn't a patient, no family history or personal history with mental illness, nor did she have any current problems going on as far as her family knew."  
"Did the doctor do anything to her?"  
"No, that was what was so weird. He was just an unfortunate passerby, seemingly."  
"Weird," Stephen pursed his lips and his eyes narrowed. "Has there been any other strange attacks in the city?"  
"I… don't know… I mean… a few armed robberies… but Daredevil caught them. And then there was… there a large brawl in a club the other day – but that's nothing new for New York."  
"Things seem to be escalating, though… right?"  
"Maybe. I don't know."  
"Who could I ask about that?"  
"About…?" Christine asked.  
"About the escalation of crime."  
"Is it connected to your research?"  
"I had a crazy thought."  
"How crazy?"  
"Really crazy. I mean… if it is true, it's crazy bordering on genius."  
"Like Tesla crazy?"  
"Maybe. Maybe. One of the things that I read is that while it is possible for a mage to connect with another mage one on one within a dream, it is rare. However…"  
"However…?"  
"However, general impressions can be placed upon open or sensitive dreamers."  
"Who can do that?" Christine sounded a little unnerved. "Who would do that?"  
"But this is… all conjecture… Connecting one set of events to another as yet to happen set of events… but what if it was true? Anyone who wishes to affect people specifically to do something. I need more information though – more statistics. For the past month and a half." Stephen sighed. "I can hardly go to the police though."  
"Hmmm… well… this may sound crazy… but…" Christine hesitated. "I heard that Tony Stark is going to the benefit. Wouldn't he have connections?"  
"I don't want to… let him know about me quite yet," Stephen frowned, "but I suppose I could scope him out. He may not want to talk to me anyways. I'm not…" He mumble-grumbled a little here at the admission. "Famous anymore. The only reason why I'm going to the benefit is because I had been invited a year ago at the last one."  
"You are still famous," Christine laughed then a little.

Stephen imagined her rolling her eyes at him.

"I can try. Maybe other people will be there who could tell me something."  
"Maybe. Oh…" There was whispering on the other end. Christine returned after a few seconds. "Sorry. I thought my work was over for the day, but it seems like a doctor needs to catch up on patient's records and I need to run through it with him. I'll talk to you later, OK? Bye!"  
"I will talk to you later," promised Stephen and he set aside his phone.

 _I am making contact with a mage perhaps. This mage and I have found each other for some reason… and we are facing an unknown evil which is looming. Ugh. Now I sound like some potboiler fantasy novelist. Still… what if the woman's psychotic break happened because of her dream? What if people's dreams are being affected… and sensitive dreamers or mages such as myself are also being affected? What if the Astral Plane is becoming more easily breached due to whatever anomaly is approaching?_

Stephen rose to his feet.

 _The benefit is in two days_ , he thought. _I am going to keep my eyes out on the news. Maybe talk to Wong… See if there is anyone else to reach out to. Until then, I am just going to have to see._

* * *

Review if you enjoyed this story so far! Thanks~!  
-KI


	4. Chapter 3

Thanks for reading!

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

There is no wind blowing across the deserted wasteland of a plain. The air hangs quiet and still. She turns and looks behind her. A desert spreads away into the distance – deep gold and light brown stretching to a smoky grey-blue horizon. Facing forward once again, she takes note that the plain before her, filled with tussocks of hardy grass and twisted trees, is not as empty as thought. Yet the dark cross of a hawk overhead and the slinking glide of a mountain cat below barely cast shadows on the ground. A sudden shrill cry from the bird pierces the silence like a crack in a mirror.

 ** _…_** ** _listen and look…  
…with the eyes of the mind and the heart…  
…for history is a wheel of many cycles…  
…wheels within wheels turn…_**

Her eyes draw slowly down to the mountains which loom in the distance. Upon the flat plain between her and the mountains, squared peaks of ancient pyramids rise at varying intervals and heights along a lazy, muddy river.

 ** _…_** ** _listen and look…_**

Recognition hits her, and her eyes widen in shock.

He doesn't know. He doesn't understand, but he can feel the confusion welling up inside.

"What is this place?" He demands abruptly.

She does not appear to see him, merely shaking her head, her mouth set small in a decided frown.

"What is this place?" He reaches out to grab her, but she turns then, her blue eyes suddenly meeting his with surprising directness.  
"This is my home."  
"Your… home?" Stephen turns around. "I don't see any houses here…" He looks around again and notices an ancient looking city in the distance. "Wait… what… what's going on here?"  
"Time has reversed. We see the past as it once was."  
"You time traveled?"  
"No. We time traveled. We were drawn here by the same powers that struggle for control of his planet. It is now up to us to decide what we shall do in response. Shall we draw near and accept what is offered us – or will we side with those who choose life? That is the choice before us."  
"Uh. Is that even a question? Life for me," Stephen raised his hands. "I vote for life every time."  
"It is not that easy," the girl allowed a small smile then. "It is a bit more complicated than that, but I am glad your initial reaction is similar to mine. Perhaps… Perhaps… you can stand up to the storm."  
"Me? What about you?"  
"Aren't you some kind of a superhero?" The girl frowned.  
"Uh, I am not the Sorcerer Supreme."  
"Sorcerer Supreme?" The girl blinked. "What - who is that?"  
"Never mind. It's not me. I'm not a superhero either," Stephen waved his hands deprecatingly.

 ** _…_** ** _yet._** A voice suspiciously similar to the Ancient One whispered. **_Not yet, Stephen Strange. But one day…_**

 ** _…_** ** _one day…_**

"Hey – are you messing with me?" Stephen glared the girl.  
"Messing with you?" asked the girl in confusion. "No. This a vision of the past and totally beyond my control. An ancient vision of where I now live today. I am like you! Look at my clothes!" She waved a blue and orange striped umbrella and gestured at her loose flowery dress which hung down over a mustard underskirt. Around her neck hung a few stylish pieces of jewelry that looked like hippy or steampunk castoffs. "Does this look like a period costume to you?"

Her feet were booted in green galoshes which jarred against her overall outfit.

"Why are you wearing galoshes?" he finally asked. "What's with the umbrella in a desert?"  
"I didn't start here. I was on my way to a bujo convention at the Stonehenge when a typical English rainstorm hit. So I imagined up some boots – but then I was dragged here in a great wind. So here I am."  
"A… Sorry… What…" Stephen waved his hand at her and shook his head. "Never mind. Never. Mind."  
"Could be worse. I could be wearing my PJs like you are."  
Stephen folded his arms and refused to look down at his black yoga pants and matching t-shirt. "I am sleeping right now."  
"So am I," said the girl. "Doesn't mean I can't change my outfit!"

Stephen opened his mouth to half-lecture, half-interrogate the girl. "Now, that is what I'd like to know. How are you able to manipulate your dreams so easily, and how do-"  
"Look."

 ** _…_** ** _look…_**

"It is coming."

 ** _…_** ** _it comes…  
…upon the wings of a storm…  
…upon the paths of dreams…_**

"And you can stop talking in my head while you are at it-"  
"What are you talking about?"  
"That's my line!" Stephen snapped. "It's damn annoying. Stop it!"  
"I'm not… talking… Wait. Are you seriously hearing voices in your head?"  
"You are in my head, and you need to stop-"

Stephen's words were whipped away, and, realizing that his tirade was falling on deaf ears, he turned to watch the storm come in. It rolled up and over the mountains, down through its lightly wooded valleys. Thick fog curled. Black clouds unfurled. Lightning crackled through the air, but no rain fell yet. Dust rose with sand as the rising winds whipped away at the dusty, clay terrain.

"You need to stop it," she said. "If you are real. If you have powers, you need to stop it."  
"Stop who? Stop what? Do you know where it is? Who is it?"

The sand now swirled about them. A powerful, cutting wall which drowned out sight and sound.

 ** _…_** ** _the storm is mounting…_**

-0-0-0-

When Stephen Strange turned on the news the following morning, he found chaos in New York and across the entire continent. Sipping a particularly strong cup of coffee, he watched the details of incidental events scroll across the bottom of the news station, while the news anchors related the latest, greatest crimes and odd events which had come to their attention overnight.

 _Random attacks. Terrorism? No terrorist ties. Multiple suicides. Pacts? No links between the suicide victims. Gang warfare. Increased hostility? Not recently apparently. Thirty percent increase in alien abduction experiences. Actual aliens? No alert from Wong, so probably not._

Questions and theories abounded, yet nothing was certain.

His phone beeped a few times. A text from Christine: _Have you seen the news? Something is going on._

Grimly, Stephen folded his hands and mentally reviewed his research yet again, taking into account the keywords of the dream he had experienced the night before.

His guess at a pattern had been proven correct. His dreams were not the only ones being influenced. Others were also affected. People with little to no power were experiencing spiritual or astral distress. Whatever you wanted to call it. Whatever it was seemed to have been awoken.

 _Ancient and evil. An ancient city with pyramids by mountains. Not Egypt. No mountains near the Giza plateau. South America? Lots of mountains in Peru… but not deserts. I need pyramids near mountains and deserts. An ancient site where an ancient evil may reside… Or mage?_

Stephen frowned. There is something out there that needs to be put to rest.

-0-0-0-

"-just a little peace and quiet-"  
"Really? I heard that it was a small guy with-"  
"Did you hear about the kid who put seven of his classmates and his teacher in the hospital because he wanted more recess time? What are kids coming to these days? I don't know why they don't-"  
"It's so sad…"  
"-got me worried, so I sent Mom and Dad north-"

As he quietly made his way through the bunches of politicians, city officials, doctors, artists, celebrities, CEOs, and other businessmen, Stephen Strange could not help but feel as though he had somehow accidentally stepped into the Mirrorverse. Alone now that Christine had elected to remain with two of the older resident doctors from her hospital, Stephen found himself drifting like a lone comet through the crowd. Unlike a comet, however, he was unnoticed and unremarked upon.

 _Less like a comet and more like a brown dwarf. With my career officially over, I will slowly slip into anonymity… and will be forgotten. Ahhh… "The Golden Age is over…" The Golden Age…. Woodkid. 2013._

It was a depressing thought, but now as he stood there surrounded by the perfume and cologne of the monied few, Stephen discovered he had the leisure not only to observe, but also to draw conclusions on the scene before him. He began to notice the details he had never really placed much importance upon before: the nervous gazes, the defiant stares, and the upturned chins. The overabundance of cologne or perfume, the dresses no doubt loaned or rented, the jewelry now and then noticed or ignored. The subconscious nose pulling, the collar tugging, the bracelet fondling. The fat man with GERDS, the white-haired woman with anorexia, the CEO's partner attempting to hide an ambitious gaze, the short cocky man surrounded by women who talked too loudly.

Stephen stopped and clocked back.

The short cocky man surrounded by women who talked too loudly. The ex-surgeon's gaze narrowed.

Tony Stark.

-0-0-0-

"Well, that's the thing about being a hero," Stark smiled an hour later at a new group which had assembled around him by the buffet table. "You never really get a chance to sit down and enjoy a good meal."  
"I guess fast food has its merits," smiled another woman, "but seriously, you never find the time to enjoy yourself?"  
"Well," the dark-haired engineer and inventor paused and then forced a smile. "Depends on how you define fun."  
"Speaking of fun," a tall, silver-haired gentleman looked about in mild confusion. "Where is Pepper? I could have sworn that she told me she would be here today."  
"Oh, she is," Stark airily waved a glass at the group and smiled rakishly at a few of the younger women who simpered and sighed in response. "I left her with a few of the charity staff to arrange the big check."

Stephen gagged a little inside.

"Well, seeing how busy you are, I must say that it was such an honour that you could join us today," a petite Asian woman lightly touched Stark on the arm and gave him a grateful look. "The children in Eastern Europe will be so grateful to get the education they so desperately need."  
"Who doesn't like school?" Stark smirked.

 _You probably didn't when you were young_ , Stephen sniffed to himself, _but you were brilliant within the studies you loved. I should know what that feels like. Doesn't mean that you know everything. I should know what that feels like too…_

"The sad thing is that I saw firsthand how devastated Eastern Europe is," Stark continued. "The people there need all the help they can get, and the most important way we can create a bright future is by allowing young minds to get the knowledge they need."  
"You should have given the speech," a man joked. A city official, if Stephen remembered rightly.  
"Probably should have. Would have had more laughs from the peanut gallery."  
"How are you and the Avengers going to deal with the recent problems in the city?" Stephen asked, deciding that if he didn't nip Iron Man's egotistic spouting, he'd strangle the man.  
"Oh, gosh," another girl chimed in. "I bet the Avengers have been really busy with that, haven't they?"  
"Well," Stark hesitated. "None of the Avengers team has been called in. It's probably due to the fact that local law enforcement believes they can handle it – and they don't want to destroy or harm people or property unless attackers with serious powers endanger the area."  
"Makes sense," said the city official.

 _No doubt towing the party line ever since the first Avengers team fell apart_ , Strange thought sourly. _With his hands tied by bureaucracy, Stark won't be able to achieve anything... Wait until a human with abilities – a mutant or Inhumans or whatever – are affected._

"Still… There seems to be an increase in incidents," Stephen pressed. "Has there been no discovery of what is causing this? Is there no investigation?"  
"Investigation of crime?" asked someone skeptically. "That happens every day."  
"No. Investigation of what is causing the crime incidents to rise so dramatically," Stephen fought hard to not roll his eyes – and just barely managed to refrain.  
"You are implying they are connected, Mr…"  
"Strange."  
"Strange? It is strange they are connected – or strange that they are happening? Or your name is Strange?" quipped Stark.  
"It's Doctor Strange," Stephen said with asperity. "My name is Doctor Stephen Strange."  
"Uh-huh. That's… that's a strange name you have, Doctor Strange." Stark gave Stephen a hard look. "And an interesting idea."  
"I get that a lot."  
"The name confusion or the interesting ideas?"  
"Both."  
"What makes you think the crimes are related?"  
"They increased all at the same time."  
"Coincidence?" suggested Iron Man.  
"Improbable," shrugged Dr. Strange. "Higher chance that there is some connection somewhere."  
"I only deal with certainties."  
"Perhaps in a few days, you will be more certain. When it is too late. Excuse me, I think my partner is trying to get my attention," Stephen lied coolly.

He stepped away, gave everyone a quick smile and Stark a nod, and walked toward Christine who was in the middle of a deep conversation with a group of young women.

 _Well, that didn't go so well_ , Stephen sighed. _What an asshole._

* * *

 **Review if you enjoyed this story so far! Thanks~!**  
 **-KI**


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